So much in the space of two short hours. The only dance show ever ever ever to make me want to remember what the program had said, did I have one more song or would it be over in a few minutes? The program sat on my lap, and I could’ve taken myself out of my self-imposed angst, but taking my senses away from the stage would be to miss on something I wasn’t sure when and where, if ever, I would find again. Yes, it was that good. Though I’ve danced even before I could name things or was made aware of Martha Graham’s existence, nothing, no one, no single performer, no choreographer, no Broadway show, no downtown extravaganza had held my soul the way this guy did. It would be unfair of me not to credit his dancers, but as someone who performed someone else’s vision many times before, those dancers got their gift and credit already. Getting to dance that movement, getting to bring to life a vision so expansive and simplistic and universal and glorious as McIntyre’s has got to be the gift of a lifetime in itself. Succinct. Every hand and gesture had its place, an unexpected and altogether brilliantly familiar place where Mr. McIntyre decided limbs and fingers and heads and gazes should go. Even now, a couple of weeks after the one-before-last performance of the Trey McIntyre Project at Jacob’s Pillow, I try to intellectually understand just what made it so good. As the language simply unfolded on stage and I chuckled in recognition and teared up in bouts of (over)joy, I continue to wonder. Was I reading this book so easily because it was written in a language I have always known? No, not so. It wasn't just me, it isn't just dancers. This is the “project” that became a full-blown, full-time touring company amounting gobbles of admirers along the way. This is the choreographer who eight years later decides to fold because he wants to pursue other things. This is the performance that when the last steps were taken had its audience up immediately, shouting, clapping, and putting themselves through whatever kinds of body exertion would get the point across. We were just so grateful. So full. So excited to be alive and there, watching those dancers bring “Mercury Half-Life” to its full, bold, everchanging, evolving, life-altering. Life.

Good description. I am grown now and wonder if I can be steady on those shoes like the one in the picture. I like concert and choreography. It's perhaps one of the few things I spend quality time to watch on TV. I can be transported to mystical realms through choreography.

I love the way to vividly do your description, making everything come alive. I usually do most of my choreography in my head and come out very well. I hope I will be able to do it in really life. This is a good page.

I so love the flexibly that the man also displays. He is doing very well. Flexibility is known more for women and girls – females in general so when there is a man who can display some form of beautiful flexibility I think is it great. Choreography is an art that is still yet to grow and I love the possibility of it doing very well. They all doing well this need real concentration and they seem to have in touch with themselves too.